


find me

by bathtub_viper



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Post-Calamity Ganon, link deserves to be happy, quiet moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bathtub_viper/pseuds/bathtub_viper
Summary: Their simpleness of mind was what Link liked about the Korok, as it mirrored how he felt himself. Zelda seemed to be weighed down by history, centuries of worry. In comparison, he had few memories to call his own, and no history except what lingered like a forgotten dream.But the pleasures and delights of this world belonged to him just the same: The sweetness of a ripe apple; a dive in a cold river on a hot summer’s day; the wind running through his hair, or a roaring fire in the night.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	find me

**Author's Note:**

> Don't we all just want to be happy? I'm severly stressed out, and writing this calmed my soul.

Link hoisted himself up and over the cliff’s edge with a grunt, immediately collapsing onto his back. Dizzy and struggling for air, he just lay there for a few seconds. It had been a while since he had climbed a cliff just for the sake of it, and it showed. Above him, a single white cloud drifted across the sky.

When his breath had calmed, Link sat up and surveyed the small plateau. A few radishes grew here, and a single big rock sat suspiciously a few paces away. Link got to his feet and slowly made his way over to it, listening for the tell-tale rattle of a little forest spirit in hiding. The Korok, however, seemed to hold perfectly still. Link put his hands onto either side of the stone and paused, smiling. Then he lifted the stone over his head in one big motion, intending to startle the little creature.

The Korok sprang forth, giggling. “You found me!”, it exclaimed, waving its little arms excitedly.

Link beamed at the leaf-faced spirit, dropping the stone to the ground with a thud. He loved their little games, simple yet always good fun. The Korok hopped over to him to hand him its seed, which Link pocketed with a thankful nod. The Korok didn’t pay a lot of attention to him after that, instead choosing to dance over to one of the radishes and inspecting it with great interest.

Link in his turn settled down at the edge of the plateau, letting his legs dangle over the edge. He loosened the strap of the Master Sword and put it down on the sparse grass that grew up here, together with the apple he had picked up at the foot of the plateau. He hadn’t bothered to bring anything else, being so close to home.

His home, the house in Hateno. He didn’t get to spend a lot of time there, usually following Zelda across Hyrule, sleeping in stables and on the road. But she had been conspiring with Purah in her lab for the last few days, not even bothering to come down to sleep. The first evening she hadn’t come home, he had decided to run up to the lab, worried she had been attacked on the way home. But when he got there, the two women were deep in conversation, discussing some sketches too elaborate for him to understand. He was quickly dismissed again. “You’re such a worrywart, Link!”, Zelda had said, smiling. “Purah will keep me safe. Don’t you have anything you like to do for fun?”

There had been that playful sparkle in her eyes again, the one that always caught him off guard. When he didn’t respond in kind, her playfulness soon turned into embarrassment. He was shooed out of the lab by Purah soon after.

Absentmindedly, Link started polishing the apple with his sleeve. Things like this happened frequently. Zelda would say something and look for recognition in his eyes that wasn’t there. He remembered her, partially, but in many ways she was still a stranger to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a let down for her. That he wasn’t who she had left behind in the Shrine of Resurrection, not truly.

The Koroks were easier that way. Link glanced down at the Korok lingering near his thigh. It had slowly started to sneak over when Link had picked up the apple. Link smiled softly and gripped the apple with both hands. He dug his fingertips in, his arms straining, and then the apple snapped in two. The Korok exclaimed with delight, and Link handed it a dripping half, biting into the other one himself. The Korok thanked him politely and carried the apple over to its rock to enjoy it in peace. Link watched it fondly.

The Korok didn’t want complicated things from him. He was to indulge their games: To shoot their balloons, find their hiding paces or solve the puzzles they had laid out. If he succeeded, they sprang forth, delighted by their cleverness and his. Most of the Korok he had met outside the Hidden Forest didn’t know who he was or used to be, and they didn’t care to find out. He could see them and he played with them, which was as good a reason as any to trust him.

This simpleness of mind was what he liked about them, as it mirrored how he felt in this world himself. Zelda seemed to be weighed down by history, centuries of worry. In comparison, he had few memories to call his own, and no history except what lingered like a forgotten dream.

But the pleasures and delights of this world belonged to him just the same: The sweetness of a ripe apple; a dive in a cold river on a hot summer’s day; the wind running through his hair, or a roaring fire in the night.

Zelda dreamt and worried about the future of the kingdom from the moment she woke up in the morning until late at night. The royal power and ancient knowledge were her privilege and burden.

If Link had ever had any big aspirations, his long sleep had purged them from him. He didn’t have dreams, but nightmares only, and he sought not to make them real. Instead, he tried to find purchase in everyday tasks.

He woke up early every day, the restless crickets waking him at dawn. He’d exercise outside, liking the way the sticks and swords moved swiftly in his grasp, and the way his bare feet moved over the moist grass. Maybe he’d talk to Angus, passing by with his donkey to sell him fresh eggs or milk. Or he’d spot a heron fishing down in the river, or a fox hurrying to its den in the early morning light.

He didn’t have much control, hounded by destiny as he seemed to be. But he got these moments: The quiet before the day, or a lazy afternoon on a sunny cliff. And there was a Korok around every bend, waiting to be played with, for no reason except the fun of it.


End file.
